


Sentient Submission

by Nilysil (Vuetyris)



Category: Warframe
Genre: Assisted Masturbation, Consentacles, Fingering, Heavy Petting, M/M, Non-Human Genitalia, Non-canon biology, Seductive entity, Size Difference, Size Kink, Tentacles, merged senses, mild restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 13:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15414315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vuetyris/pseuds/Nilysil
Summary: Hunhow enthralls his hunter with every satisfactory catch, drive him to buckle unashamed. But, he wonders, how exactly does it feel to be drawn to ache as such?





	Sentient Submission

**Author's Note:**

> -+- Kudos, comments and sharing are encouraged! -+-

Hunhow knows, what Stalker wants.

The death of the tenno, the prominent; an adversary they share, and the sentient hung undisclosed as being the driving force of the death of an empire. It was a non-issue, a history buried in the depths as deep as their solace. A domain crafted from what remains of his sentient bones, where he had once laid in dormancy and now lies awake and aware. The net of the tenno ever so vast – nigh endless as his shadow cleaves through their masses at a sluggish pace; their power grown once awaken from their dream.

Hunhow knows, what his hunter yearns.

Huddled away in the depths of Uranus’ oceans, does he make Stalker writhe. Rewards for another warframe turned to slaughter, mass constituting to his own sluggish revival. Time has not been kind to the sentient – his old bones too rotten. Mass hugging his hunter’s legs; hands drawn over glowing flesh as a voice mumbles under a barrage. It breaks up the monotony of his time spent rebuilding himself piece by piece.

But more often, his shadow is away.

The sentient sits static in his hollowed womb; the intricacies of his thoughts drawn outwards as he prods against the elusive Cephalon weave. His prior plans lie in ruin, thwarted by minds turned into data points and the pestering Tenno… infiltration proves difficult, their collective grown more resilient since his original collapse that leaves him captive in his caverns. Unable to do more than send his fragments, solely directing them towards slaughter.

Annoyed.

His thoughts revert towards his hunter’s extra-curricular activities – moments that captivate his interest as he drew his shadow exhausted beneath him. The pleasantries he derived from him… a simmer only made by interlinking minds of regions the sentient doesn’t share. Sensitivities he presses to drive sounds from his prized hunter, glowing flesh stroking around twitching and aches Hunhow can only read. It brings Stalker to groan, shifting and rolling as the bulking sentient pleases him - but Hunhow is unable to derive the same pleasantries.

It humors the sentient to bring his hunter to writhe, feeling the needing bleed through Stalker’s nerves and into the interlink. Knowing just how he wants to be taken, enamoring the hunter with pleasure he fumbles to find the words for; it brings Hunhow a taste of glee as his name is stammered. Perhaps even in the same manner that tickles the hunter as he’s referred to as ‘shadow’ with a sentient purr. As much as he enjoys making Stalker weak between the legs… Hunhow wants to feel.

He knows the intermittent intricacies of his hunter’s senses; where touches tempt him, where he’s found need, where his nerves run flush with sensation that draw him to twitch and buck; hard-coded logic dictated beneath sensory pleasure – something Hunhow is unable derive for himself. Clawed hands flex before him in the deluded light, made of twisted vermillion and shimmering chitin obsidian, peaking with the glow of sentient flesh from knuckle to knuckle.

Taking one hand into another, a claw presses into a soft joint.

Hunhow feels nothing as the blunt obsidian breaks his flesh, letting the pearlescent fluid drip through the creases of his palm and drip to the abyssal stone where his body is entrapped in. Malleable flesh roves over the damp surface as he sits in thought, drawing again to make himself bleed at the joints. A superficial injury that he has no issue with; but there is no tinge of pain that draws, no sensation as a claw drifts upwards against his metallic skin.

Reaching out, he captivates his hunter, ghosting the hold of singular digits at his sides. “I have need of you, my shadow,” the sentient rumbles. While he lacks in tact, Hunhow makes up for in a sensory relay – the want to feel what he feels, to replicate the sensations as his own. The sentient has no one else to turn to for such a request; he might just be able to form his own, but it’ll take so much longer than replicating Stalker’s physiology.

The sentient’s need echoes through their captivating connection, claws drawing up along an out stretched throat that sighs. “I’m on my way,” Stalker breathes, relishing in the ancient’s attention as he pilots his vessel back towards Uranus. Against his skin he can feel Hunhow’s claws yearning; they arch around his pecs and settle against his sides – impatient. The sentient whispers against his senses, drawing a parallel within himself as he works himself to feel.

Back within the depths his massive head rolls, arching his shoulders as nerves and muscles bloom through his flesh. As his claws rove over his hunter idle, calling out against Stalker’s senses, he’s able to make his own mimicry. The simplicity on the interactions is a deception, drawing a complexity within the sentient’s tethered form through torso and limbs. He needs not lungs to breathe, nor heart for circulating of fluid through his malleable flesh as it courses unrestrained.

Hunhow’s desire is simple – he wants to feel the same yearning as his hunter.

The merging of their senses let him feel the force through the hunter as the ship plunges into the sea, a jolting that echoes through his own body. By request, Hunhow relinquishes his hunter as the ship buckles through the dense sea. And in his patience, he accesses the new sensations, flexing newfound muscles in his limbs, feeling his flesh spilt out along the abyssal stone. 

As carefully as he would tend to his hunter, he scoops the tentacles that spill from his basin. The malleability still is numb, resilient within his palm as digits squeeze the pearlescent flesh. They resign wet in his grip as he thumbs over them, wiggling quizzically as he tries to direct them with the newfound nerves that bloom in his torso. They’re unable to follow the same logic in muscle control – and Hunhow’s resigned to accessing his own senses for them until his hunter arrives. He echoes a request for his hunter, resting claws against Stalker’s sides as he steps out of his pilot seat.

“Must you be at me at every moment, Hunhow?” Stalker questions aloud, arching into the sense of hands cupping his hips as he sets away his armaments away – the greatsword made of the sentient’s own bones strapped against his back.

“When you are required, yes, my shadow,” the sentient rumbles, reassessing his recollection of the muscles bore beneath Stalker’s skin. He can feel the resilience in Stalker’s skin against his ghosting touch, the captivation of grazing over sensitive zones and the teases towards them. Stalker’s protests are half-hearted; as he eases against the touches.

A tinge of amusement creases in Stalker’s sensory mouth, cupping against the sensation of claws against his hip as it grazes beneath the flowing fabric that the sentient gave him a gift. “If you insist,” his voice reverbs, fingers grazing around the hilt of the bone blade. “And I assume you have need of more than my nerves?” He draws the blade, letting it lie towards the ground as the hilt dances in his palm; waiting for the hanger door to open and for Hunhow’s fragments to fetch the kills lying at his feet.

“Our connection suffices - to replicating senses, my shadow,” Hunhow’s voice echoes need through their connection, “but without additional… participation, I’ve no means to confirm them.” It’s a want that Stalker has become well acquainted with. To be drawn into a mess beneath the sentient’s obscene dominance; the aching of stimulated nerves to buck in soft restraints.

Stalker can catch it beneath the sentient’s words – why else would he hold such interests?

The blade twirls in his hand as the fragments board the ship, dragging the corpses as he walks towards where Hunhow resides deep within the recesses of his crafted womb. And at him every step of the way is the sentient’s presence; tracing against Stalker’s sleek muscles beneath sword steel, strong joints that easily manipulate the bone blade as he walks through the caverns aglow with sentient energy.

Hunhow has grown ever stronger; Stalker mulls over as he slides the blade through the air, twisting it to lie against his back as he steps into the sentient’s expansive room – where his mass swarms below them in undulations. As if risen on a pedestal the sentient’s physical body sits as on a throne, risen above the ambient glow, surrounded by his reclaimed bones staring out into the sea beyond – a view that outside lies obscured. A mere lie to the grineer outside.

The sentient reclines back as Stalker approaches, breathing a false exhale as he stares tilted. “Shadow,” his voice rumbles, a secondary limb out reaching, “come here.”

Stalker does as he’s asked, jamming the sentient blade into a raised outcrop baring a place for it to rest.

Enormous obsidian claws trace around Stalker as he moves into Hunhow’s range, scooped beneath as he approaches the slopping sentient flesh that swarms from his overseer’s waist. Each footstep is out maneuvered by the pearlescent flesh, grazed by intricate and almost careful claws. Stalker resigns his caution as the sentient traces his form in his palm, cupping his muscles and skins in an ever-intrigued fashion. It draws him flush, a hand gripping around a thumb as claws drag down his rear and between his thighs.

A claw taps at his seam, and Stalker arches.

He was correct.

As delicately as the bulking sentient can manage, he leans forth – cradling Stalker inside a set of palms. “There, my shadow, is a sensation I seek.” His voice purrs inside and out, breathing against skin and nerves – their sensory link still firm. “The sensation of twitching nerves – I want to know how it draws you loud.” Eight illuminating eyes gaze down over Stalker’s form, half cant and intrigued – still toying with the sensation of feeling his delicate hunter. He’s careful as he strokes over Stalker’s skin, a thumb scooping beneath his thighs. “Grand me, in that regard, the sensitivity that makes you writhe,” the sentient coos, rumbling to turn the request into a command, “my dear shadow.” The thumb grazes over Stalker’s inner thigh to uncover the glint of a splitting seam. He can feel the flush running through his hunter’s helm, unhooking the leg to let it drag over stomach before its caught by gripping fingers.

Stalker holds the obsidian chitin beside his head, staring up and exposed to the sentient’s gaze. He figures, why not best his luck? “Is that all you have need of me, Hunhow?” He coaxes the claw to follow his motion, pleasantly surprised he has enough force to guide it to the side as he’s gently leveled back to the ground. “If you derived something from me prior – what need do you have of me? You possess something you had once lacked.”

The sentient’s claws linger at his back, his enormous vermillion body reclining back inline with the abyssal stone his body has been fused to – and in turn, guiding Stalker closer. “Amusing assumption, shadow,” he rumbles, coaxing Stalker down amongst his furls of malleable flesh. “There lies some aspect I’m unable to replicate from your body. There is where you come in.” Flesh strokes around Stalker’s thighs as he moves into a kneel beneath the sentient, surrounded by the furling warmth. He pushes it away as he settles into place, shoving tentacle girths out of place as he tries to find himself comfortable. A palm grazes over a mass that protrudes from the sentient’s elusive underside, where Hunhow’s stomach divides into dulled armor skin.

Curious, Stalker scoops beneath it – where lies nothing but flesh.

But it makes the sentient grunts.

Just as quickly as he slid is fingers beneath, he removes them, staring up to the sentient with worry and fear coursing through his nerves – a sensation transmitted to Hunhow.

The ancient sentient chuckles.

Hunhow begins with a faked inhale, his flesh furling around Stalker, claws carefully cupping against his back. “Worry not, my shadow,” the sentient purrs, staring down with his enormous head in a partial tilt. “Proceed; as I craft my ability to feel.” And he breathes an empty exhale – one that courses through the sentient’s flesh and surges warmth through the tentacles coiling Stalker close. It draws him to shuffle, palms raised and uncertain.

Before Stalker, below the sentient’s mimicry of a stomach, pearlescent tentacles split themselves into form, a collective of newfound limbs coated with sentient slime. A new expansion for Hunhow to replicate nerves to become sensitive, wanting and needing as their lengths coax against Stalker’s wrists in pleas. Their girth is manageable, just enough to make the hunter pause as his hands reach towards them.

Their girth is minimal, just enough to draw the killer to be drawn silent. As they pet for attention, one is taken up; kneaded between forefinger and thumb.

A sound simmers through the sentient’s chest, something Stalker is uncertain to notate being pleasure or distain.

So, he takes it in both hands as the other coils around his wrist. With one hand, he kneads the tentacle’s flesh between palm and finger – his other cradles it, stroking the wet appendage.

Stalker, this time, is certain of the sentient’s response.

It’s a rumble that echoes through the sentient’s chest and consequently through his pearlescent flesh. A purr that reverbs around Stalker and between his crouched legs. A minor distraction as he turns back to stroking the glowing appendage for more of the unusual sounds from the stoic sentient lording above him. “That,” Hunhow purrs over their connection, “is what I seek. Continue, my shadow.”

Catching sight of the obsidian claws that come to rest around the nestle of flesh, Stalker coaxes the tentacle again, thumb pressing the pearlescent tentacle against his spread fingers. He shuffles for a moment, petting the tentacle as it coils against his forearm, coaxing against the touches that drives noise from the sentient above. The sliming flesh saturates his skin as the other coils against his thigh, trying to draw him closer amongst the flurry of flesh.

Above him the sentient sighs, his flesh undulating against the smaller body settled near his torso. It draws a knead to express his restrained sentiments. Obsidian claws grip at abyssal stone, his gaze half tilted as he watches Stalker knead his glowing flesh. It satisfies the same part of him, the part that enamored him to draw sound from the one petting his cultivated sensitivity. Dark fingers knead around the glow, dampened by the residual slime that coats each tentacle lying numb around Stalker’s thighs.

Two crafts of reconstituted flesh scoop beneath Stalker’s hips – one petting around his rear to draw him close. It makes him shuffle, legs affixed against another to hold an arousal close – and gripping another rumble from the sentient.

Hunhow likes this.

And he can feel through their connection. His shadow likes this as well.

Though the transmission of want and need lies obscured to him, the sentient can tell from just how attentive the hands are around his flesh. Stroking around the glowing sensitivity that tempts to grip back around the palms as its captive. It blooms sensitive as Stalker’s hands grip and press, coaxing down around the writhing girth. The length unattended coils against Stalker’s thighs, wanting, needing to be attended to! It tempts to press downwards, to worm between as a rumble courses through Hunhow’s crafted nerves. The persistence is halted by a hand pulling it from its burrowing, pressing it against the other as the palming resumes once more.

The twinning sensitivities wrap at one another, forcing the sentient to echo a groan as obsidian claws dig into abyssal stones. As they writhe in Stalker’s palms, the sensation surges them to react link among the easing strokes, their malleability compounded as their nerves become more sensitive and wanting for attention. Each resound of pleasure encourages Stalker’s grip, drafted close towards where the tentacles emerge from Hunhow’s enigmatic body.

Thick tentacle girths cradle at his back, pawing as Stalker squeezes the girths and presses them against his chest. The ends wrap beneath Stalker’s throat, coaxing as the sentient breathes above. “Shadow,” Hunhow rumbles, his voice surging with the anticipation, “It is… intriguing, yes?” He stares down where Stalker palms his flesh, drafting the limping loops that try to coil around his forearms to yield him closer. “To have such sensations.” And he drifts a partial chuckle, halted by the draw of false breath.

“Indeed,” Stalker internally grins, fingers dancing over the tentacle undersides. “Though perhaps, you may be able to produce one more sensitive?” He releases the veil between their thoughts, giving the sentient various tempting drafts of tentacle members. An expression of arousal unlike his tentacles, formed of muscle and nerves, one that can hang stable and erect. To press emphasis, Stalker coaxes the needing tentacles to combine, jerking them simultaneously against his throat as he stares at Hunhow.

The flesh around him shutters, pearlescent roves undulating as their shape alternates, diluting for a reform nestled between the twinning sensation the sentient already has. “Indulge me, shadow, with this sensation,” rumbles above as a collective presses between the aching tentacle base, a frilling of sizes nesting the newfound flesh. The tentacles held within Stalker’s hands wind around his wrists, coaxing him to reach where the new growths flex beneath Hunhow’s stomach.

His palms release the now reducing tentacles that ride over his hips, a hand palming amongst the emerging sensitivity as digits finger through the dense flesh. The sentient shutters above him, drawing a groan that echoes through their mental link. They pry amongst the forest of glowing flesh, delving amongst it to drive fresh sounds from Hunhow above.

“Shadow,” the sentient groans, his flesh furling to give his hunter room. His body, trapped in stone, cannot move.

“What is it, sentient?” Stalker’s voice reverbs, his investigating hand finding place on a growing mass – he’s unable to pull his hand away. The sentient holds him there.

“Nothing, my dear hunter,” the sentient purrs, raising a claw to divide between Stalker’s legs. Chitin grazes against a split seam, pressing against cerise lips. “Our sensations, the same,” he concludes, letting his digit rise over Stalker’s back with a tempting graze. Beneath his touch Stalker shifts, hand scooping against the sentient’s sensitive flesh in a spreading press and wet scooping.

“I’m certain, if you are able to present, I may grant you sensations only you can feel,” Stalker teases, shifting back as the claw scooping between his thighs. It splits his lips, tempting against his clit that grips back as he holds beneath the sentient’s expressing flesh.

“How so, shadow?” The sentient exhales, his flesh gripping around Stalker’s thighs, wanting to meet their needing.

“A grown arousal,” Stalker reverbs, digging his fingers against a soft spot that makes the sentient sharply fake an inhale. “Something I can stroke, inside and out,” he grins, his fingers dividing amongst the sentient’s flesh. Behind him, he rides the ridges of the obsidian claw; where it pets against his vulva, following his motions as he sits – hands pulled away from Hunhow’s need and hang in the air between. Cocky, he stares up. “They’re waiting, come and fill them,” he tempts to grin.

The claw between Stalker’s thighs lie buried between his rear and feet, prodding upwards a grunt that makes the hunter twitch. But it doesn’t move him from his spot among the coils, watching the initial tentacles pet lazily around his thighs wanting. He’s well aware Hunhow cannot move from his spot, and that if the sentient wants to feel his hands, his sensations will have to grow to meet them.

Above the sentient rumbles, agitated as he forms a girth among the nest of flesh he had just formed.

But his agitation is short lived as the slender girth meets Stalker’s hands, where they’re petted over with slick fingers, stoked along the girth that makes the flesh writhe. Claws dig into abyssal stone as small hands take his fresh member, petting him from mid to end with such daunting touches. Sensitive nubs along the length are pet over, kneaded, and bringing out unrestrained sounds from Hunhow as he’s taken by Stalker’s hands.

As the hands move, Hunhow searches for more of the sensations, expanding the girth to press against Stalker’s chest, frilling in every sensation as dark fingers pet and play with him. His concise nature is drawn to putty in his hunter’s hands, tentacles drifting and needing senseless, wanting more of the attention. He doesn’t admit as groans rumble through his form, tentacles furling in every sensory clench – his claw has even drifted away from Stalker’s rear as it claws at the stone beneath them. His voice rumbles in need as his sensitive appendage is stroked, fingers squeezing him over the pearlescent sliming and prodding at the slits in the tip.

Head heeded back, the sentient groans as his flesh is prodded, stroked and penetrated by wandering fingers as tentacles grip around Stalker’s center. It absorbs his concentration, the sensations making his thoughts muddied and resounding through their connection.

Hunhow couldn’t imagine just how good it felt.

Was this the reason his shadow was so willingly to be dominated? To writhe senseless as tentacles persisted inside his body and stroke his sensitivities?

There is still more the sentient wants to know; and his astral wings spread.

With an inhuman rumble, a sound echoing with sentient energy, Hunhow crawls himself to lean over his shadow, a hand cupping against Stalker’s back and guiding him safely beneath. Obsidian claws grip against stone as his roving flesh undulates, a hand scooping the flesh away from pressing against his serviced aching member. “Shadow,” he growls, huffing above as his flesh flexes in Stalker’s grip.

Dark hands delve into the sentient’s flesh, splitting the sensitive tip before stroking it closed once more. The multiple slits frill as they’re stroked with slime coated hands, bobbing as the ends coax against the touches. He stares, watching as the dark hands move over his glowing girth, his slopped tip obscuring the fingers delving into the sensitive internals. They spread his head wider as they pet within the slits, his hand deviating back to knead the sensitive end as others cup the frilling flesh along the sides.

It’s grown nearly as big as his hunter’s torso now, a size that makes the sentient satisfied and ever needing – wanting to feel himself taken completely by his hunter. Tentacles cup against Stalker’s hips, wrapping at his skin, needing to feel his hunter beneath him as he aches above him. There’s only so much Hunhow can do stuck in abyssal stone.

He buckles down as the sensations burn inside his nerves, obsidian claws scratching as he’s only partial to halting the expression rolling through his body. Hands drawn around his pearlescent flesh, coaxing his newfound nerves to ache and jerk within Stalker’s hands. It draws Hunhow mush in his hands, the sentient’s astral wings spreading above and shadowing their bodies from the light outside of the chamber. The only light between them is the glow of the sentient’s flesh, the sound a bolster of Hunhow’s rumbling and his sentient energy coursing around them. It rings as Stalker grips the member, fingers prodding and poking, petting and cupping the sentient’s aching sensitivities.

The sentients voice echoes around them as his tentacles flex and contort around Stalker – his cupping hand saving Stalker from his thrashing flesh as he’s dragged up and against his boiling peak. His body coils down, compressing the space for Stalker to work him to end as the sensitive tentacles pull Stalker’s thighs, his member jerking among the small palms. Fingers coated with the simulation of fluid white – the sentient’s liquid insides split as a mimicry of orgasm.

Hunhow’s physical body shutters as he’s brought to end, breathing falsed as he picks himself from the sensation with a callous grunt. To be made weak by such small hands. Physically spent by nimble fingers stroking and digging inside him.

Hunhow knows, he liked it.

No, he didn’t like it.

He adored it.

The sentient chuckles as he plucks himself back in control of himself, his head half tilted to the hunter coated with his fluids. Though he’s spent, he can feel through the shared connection Stalker doesn’t want to be done – at least not yet, he surmises.

“Shadow,” he rumbles, staring down where Stalker wipes his hands against the pearlescent flesh lying around his thigh. “Shall I sate you? As you had given me.” His voice purrs, a hand cupping behind Stalker’s back to suggest a recline.

“Certainly,” Stalker relays, giving into the suggestion as a finger rises beneath his leg.

“You enjoyed it,” the sentient proclaims, hoisting Stalker to be held by two claws against his chest, another holding him exposed to the furling tentacles that emerged from Hunhow’s base. “Haven’t you?”

Stalker doesn’t resist as his flesh is teased by the sentient’s frilling ends, “perhaps.” He grins, arching against the worming tentacle pressing against his lips. Held captive, he only grips at the claws around his center, staring down where the sentient’s pearlescent flesh coils and pets. A sigh leaves him as girth presses inside his eager body, an arm reaching back with a groan. “Perhaps I did,” he grunts, shifting as the flesh fills him to the brim, a frill of flesh gripping around his free thigh and holding him exposed and taut.

“Then let me sate you, my shadow,” Hunhow purrs, thrusting his flesh inside of Stalker once more. “Take it as, a reward for your service.”

Stalker writhes inside the two-fold restraints, aching as he’s filled with the sentient’s slopping flesh to drip groans and pleas to fill him again. Hunhow, teasing, penetrates him before drawing it back, making Stalker’s trembling ache to lie exposed, his clasper clit twitching for more of the glowing flesh inside him.

And Hunhow, ever willing, provides for his shadow.

**Author's Note:**

> -+- Kudos, comments and sharing are encouraged! -+-


End file.
